Song
by YaoiSongstress07
Summary: Set in the world of MGS4: Guns of the Patriots! Old Snake, having heard the worst news from Naomi Hunter, teeters on the edge of emotional destruction. Luckily, his knight is ready to catch him! Love truly heals all amidst war, even an old heart.
1. First Song

Thank you for dropping into 'Song'. I embrace all of my precious audiences, but before you tread any further, please heed these important words. This fic contains a HIGH amount of fluff, and also contains an emotional Old Snake. An additional element is the inclusion of a boy/boy pairing.

IF YOU ARE ALLERGIC TO HUMANIZED OLD SNAKES, EMOTION, FLUFF AND/OR YAOI COUPLES, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS! SAVE YOURSELF THE TROUBLE!

Inspired by Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots, I decided to dive into Old Snake's plight. I have an immortal soft spot for Old Snake, and I adore the trauma he has to endure in MGS4. Sadly, though, I haven't gone deep enough into our old soldier's psyche. Not even with 'Awakening'. And with all of the fabulous, bewitching work I've read, no one aside from Andi Mack (with her greatest piece Adjustment Periods, and special praise goes out to her for the Meryl situation) has gone into Old Snake's mental and physical distress. I mean, work with me, children. Naomi tells him he pretty much has no time left to live, he's on the verge of transforming into a poison bomb-I mean, ouch! Ouchies!

I'd die if someone wrote me an angsty, emotional ficcy on Old Snake's trials. (wink wink) Especially if poor Snake was paired with someone like Snow. I don't want to trouble anyone, though...bwee hee hee...

In the meantime, enjoy the completed first chapter! And thanks for your reading, dearies!

Disclaimer: Yeah, you know this already. But if I owned Metal Gear Solid, Snake's adventures would continue. With Otacon, of course.

* * *

Many believed an old dog couldn't learn new tricks. When Dante came into the picture, that belief was swept into a dustbin and tossed with the rest of the garbage. The devil slayer reprogrammed a certain old legend, teaching him how to adapt to life's greatest treasure.

The dashing, elegant entrepreneur taught him how to love.

The lessons were thick in detail, but simple. As he was the personification of love himself, he never hesitated in revealing his feelings. Kind, sweet and gentle, he laid so much affection on the legend, the legend thought he would drown. There were the simple kisses, the simple touches, the simple smiles and pet names. There were the embraces, the peaceful nights, and comforting flashlights. The master slayer wasted not a single breath when it came to revealing his devotion, never wanting the apple of his eye to feel lonely. Or even insecure. That spoke volumes, considering how insecure the old legend actually was.

He was Dante. Teacher, lover, friend, companion and devil slayer, all rolled up into one package. He was also an anchor, able to keep things steady when things turned sour. And 'sour' stamped a great deal of situations. With Liquid Ocelot in life's picture, treading through problems seemed to be no different from treading through fog and peanut butter. Dante's pupil needed him, and he needed him desperately. And to make matters worse, Liquid wasn't the legend's only problem.

He was Dante, and he was kind. Kind to the anime junkie that constantly worried over his dearest, oldest friend. Kind to the Nomad's little maiden, who looked up to him. Kind to the old legend, who had been starving for love all of his life. In the past he had expressed an aversion to love, but when Old Snake came into the picture, he had absolutely no problem with kisses, hugs and roses. There may not have been any roses sprouting on the battlefield, but roses sprouted whenever Snake came around.

His pupil was Old Snake, also known as 'Epyon'. His nickname, so frequently used by Sunny, came from one of Hal Emmerich's anime obsessions. Epyon was the name of a mobile Gundam suit, and was one of the most powerful suits in the show. Sunny's Epyon felt no kinship with the suit, as he sank in sorrow on a daily basis. He wasn't the strong, invincible legend others heard of on the battlefield.

Luckily, he had his anchor. He had his Dante.

So much had happened in the last couple hours. So much happened within the span of a few minutes. The day's events made Snake wish he had been at a graveyard for two reasons. One, he could've been prepared for the fate Naomi stamped on him. Two, he probably could've made some friends. After all, he had done nothing but kill, kill and kill his entire life. There would have been someone familiar in a graveyard, and chances for a party. Hearing how his lifespan had been sliced down to pretty much nothing wasn't akin to hearing a parade roll down the street.

It was night time, and true to form, the night brought relief. It brought life. The master had his pupil in his arms, silent but forever gentle. The pupil had his head in the master's chest, inhaling every bit of comfort the other had to give. He hadn't voiced his opinions, but they were obvious. Naomi had opened up a can of worms, pirahna and wolf spiders. And every last creature was running around in his weary old heart, trying to suck him dry. Luckily, the word 'trying' cropped into the picture because of Dante. If it hadn't been for the master hunter, there wouldn't have been any trying.

He said nothing, arms locked around his anchor. His breathing was ragged, his eyes could hardly stay open, and his heart was taking a journey through sludge. Never before had he opened himself to anyone, including Hal 'Otacon' Emmerich. However, being around Dante made things easier. It made breathing easier. Being able to inhale and exhale was normally an impossible job, but Dante made the exercise effortless. Life was so much simpler with Dante around, and Snake loved it. As hard as it was, he loved it.

He loved Dante.

Somewhere along the road, Snake managed to pick up something. He heard how deep, steady breathing opened up one's chasm of pain, and allowed it to flow freely into the wind. Nonsense, he thought, until Dante took him into his arms. The simple act of breathing was purifying. Invigorating. Exactly what he needed after a long, difficult day.

He didn't know how much time had passed between them. And honestly, he really couldn't have cared less about the time. He only knew that Dante was right there, holding him, allowing all of his cares to flow freely into the wind. Dante was his air.

Dante was the voice that broke the night's silence.

"So, lemon cup, ready for bed?"

He, the old, withered flower, peered into a pair of carefree eyes. He said nothing, silently reflecting on everything they had shared. Dante had been silent during the bulk of their embrace, knowing full well just how upset he was. Normally the master hunter couldn't stop making jokes, always prodding at Liquid and Naomi, but on that particular night, he kept his mouth shut.

Dante's voice meant the world to him. But so did Dante's silence.

He said nothing, wondering if he'd ever get out of bed again. Wondering if he'd ever open his eyes and see Dante's smiling face again. Would it be wise to go to bed, or would it be wiser to stay awake? Forever?

If Solid Snake had met Old Snake, Solid Snake probably would have laughed his head off. But did Old Snake care?

Not for a second.

He said nothing, his pale blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. The inability to speak plastered itself all over his face. He was shy around Dante, yes, but shyness wasn't the only problem. Now he was putting the demon hunter in grave danger. Naomi had just told him he'd pretty much poison everyone around him. Dante, as strong and amazing as he was, wouldn't be on FOXDIE's list of exempt candidates.

Dante waited. With the world's most beautiful smile, he waited. He would have waited forever for a response. He would have waited forever for anything, if it meant his happiness. He'd rip off his arm if it meant Snake's happiness, and have it seasoned, roasted, then tossed with garden salad. Then he'd throw in a bag of almonds. Meryl wouldn't do anything like that for him. She never would have done anything like that for him. She hated him! She got up, screamed at him and stormed out, right in the middle of sex! And that was back when he was Solid Snake! Not even Old Snake! Now things were even worse! He was old, ugly, dying-

"Hey now! What's with the tears? You know the rules. No crying, cupcake. My heart can't take it."

Dante's fingers wiped away so many tears. Snake began to sob, and in half a second, he realized just how much he hated the sound of his own voice. He hated the sound of his sobbing, which only made things worse! And it was difficult to describe his voice. He sounded...well, ugly. The world's fattest, ugliest monkey would curdle up and die if he caught sight of Old Snake!

But Dante didn't agree with him. Dante didn't agree with anything when it came to Snake's attendance in Self Degradation 101. "It's okay," the master slayer said, rocking the old soldier back and forth. Cradling him, as no one else had. "It's okay. Everything's all right. We'll take care of everything, baby. You're gonna be fine."

Snake winced. He put on the face of a cat that wished to spit out a hairball. He took a deep breath, clamping a lid on the rest of his sobbing. It took a great deal of effort to silence his sobs, but somehow, he managed to do it. "How can you say that?" he asked, and realized he hated his voice even more than he did a few seconds ago. Wow, did he sound terrible. Listening to fingers claw at a blackboard would have been much easier on the ears for Dante.

Or so Snake thought.

"How can you say something like that after...after everything Naomi said? You listened to her. You heard everything she said. You...I..."

Dante cut in before Snake could dive into another pool of tears. "First of all, no one's dying on my watch," the master slayer said, placing his heartbeat against the other male's. "So you're infected with FOXDIE. So you're much older than you naturally should be. Big deal. If I can run a business for the world's biggest idiots and assholes, I can take care of you. Plain and simple."

Snake's face stiffened. He was never fond of the cheerful approach when things were hectic, not even when Dante provided the cheer. "You can't take care of everything," he said, halfway between another round of tears and vehement shouting. "You can't pull out your magic wand all of the time and make everything right!"

"Yes I can. Especially for you, ladybug."

Anyone else would have gushed over the pet name 'ladybug'. Snake wanted to tear Dante apart, especially because of the situation-and Dante's attitude.

"No you can't! You can't, Dante!"

Pointing at himself, the old legend went on. He went on, hating every word, every syllable. He went on, loathing the sound of his tearful, tired old voice. And facing everything for the very first time, Old Snake fell apart.

"This is what I've been forced to deal with! This is what I have to work with! This is who I am, who I'm meant to become! All of the burdens I bear are my burdens, and I can't do a damn thing about it! Look at me, Dante! I'm a tired sack of bones and hard arteries! I'm dying and I'm going to become a human time bomb in three months! Three months! That's absolutely nothing! I'm this disgusting, putrid sin walking the face of the earth!"

That did it. That had to do it.

He shut his eyes, trembling. Hands balled into fists, he began to whimper. He began to cry, knowing full well Dante would exercise his right to leave. Not even a picture perfect guy like Dante would stick around after that. He obviously didn't believe in a future, so why would Dante stick around? Meryl certainly packed her clothes and hightailed it far away from Solid Snake, whom she left completely naked. Dante would definitely walk away from Old Snake.

"Hey."

Snake opened his eyes. Oh no, it was coming. Dante was no more than a few inches away from him, either intolerably bored or intolerably pissed off. Never before had he been seen without a smile, sarcastic or genuine. He appeared to be calm, but the presence of a feverish, negative emotion could not be denied. Snake had managed to strike some fuse.

"Wanna see something?"

The old soldier did nothing. He couldn't do anything, frozen by shock.

Seizing just the right opportunity, Dante shut his eyes. He took two fingers and tapped the middle of his collarbone. Then, right before Snake's wide eyes, he transformed into something. Something...

That wasn't as handsome as Dante.

"Ain't I a cutie?"

Snake was no different from a child at a magic show. "Wha...what happened? What did you do?"

"Nothing much. I just revved up my Devil Trigger."

The older male gasped, unable to make the difference between 'up' and 'down'. Smiling, Dante in his Trigger form launched an explanation. "I'm a spawn of Hell," he said, as if he had been born into a perfectly normal family.

"To be precise, I'm the spawn of Sparda. I come from a lovely line of stylish devils, as you can see. Sparda's got full reign over a lovely set of groupies, and I happen to be one of his lucky sons."

Right then and there, Snake caught the resemblance between his family situation and Dante's family situation. Dante surely had another brother, who was most likely Sparda's favorite. "I flambe every demon I come across, even those bearing human flesh," the demon slayer went on. His Trigger voice would have scarred an infant for life, but Snake found Dante's warmth in it. He found Dante's kindness. Dante's magic.

"I eat, kill, and steal the souls of idiots. Now, howse about you and I going out on the town, pretty thing? We'll paint the town red!"

At first Snake chuckled, but then chuckles gave way to laughter. He laughed, forgetting just how much he hated his voice. He laughed, tears flowing freely down his wrinkled face. And to Dante, the sound of Snake's laughter was akin to hearing the greatest Ozzy Osbourne concert ever. It was refreshing. Invigorating. Simply divine. So why not encourage the concert to continue?

"I'm sure we won't get anywhere looking for a bite to eat, and we can't really catch any movies, but we'll have a great time! You and me!"

Snake was still laughing, and tears were still rolling down his cheeks. "Dumbass! There isn't a dating spot for miles! And we're high in the sky!"

"Great," Dante said with a shrug. "We'll give the world a break by hiding our ugly mugs! And oh, before we stuff our picnic basket with cucumber sandwiches and eggflower soup, I've got other things to tell you. Other dark, hideous secrets."

Dante was mocking him, plain and simple. Snake smiled, knowing Dante was mocking him. Knowing how much Dante loved him. "What are they?" the old legend asked, wiping away a few tears. Dante, meanwhile, was as grave as he could possibly be.

"Well, I don't have too many friends. Pretty much everyone in Hell wants to kill me, including my beautiful, popular brother Vergil. And oh yeah. I kinda have a lot of debt on my shoulders too. See, I ate a lot of pizza, and things got out of hand."

"Listen to yourself," a radiant, smiling Snake said, wiping away more tears. "I just poured out my heart to you, and you're talking about pizza!"

Dante retained his serious expression. "I just poured out my heart too," he said, pretending to be wounded. He even clamped a hand over his heart. "I've got some really big issues! Tony's not letting my three hundred dollar debt slide!"

Wow. Snake clamped his hands onto the sides of his face, shook his head and sighed. "How did you manage to rack up a debt over pizza?"

The master slayer shrugged. And as he explained himself, Snake laughed. He laughed even after he struck the floor, doubled over in laughter.

"It just happened. See, I kinda eat a lot. I eat the ultimate cheese lover's pizza because it's the best. And I kinda asked for a lot of freebies."

Three letters stamped themselves on Snake's face, and they were 'omg'.

Hal knew what they stood for. He used them regularly in chat rooms, talking about the relationship between Rinoa Heartily and Squall Leonhart.

"Don't you run a business?"

"Sure do," Dante said, shrugging. Snake's face crumpled, preparing itself for the inevitable new round of laughter.

"Where's your money going?"

"Well, I kinda use it on my bike. I don't really get a lot as it is, but when I do, I use it to spiff up my ride. I have to, or else I'll tarnish my shop's image."

Wow. Stifling a huge geyser of laughter was tremendously difficult. "You can't spare a few dollars for a slice of pizza?"

"I just said I have to pay for my bike," the hunter replied, once again pretending to be offended. "And oh yeah. I kinda like strawberry sundaes too. Have to eat 'em after the rich, luscious taste of Mike's delicacies."

And so it was official. The night's serious tone had flown completely out the window. On stork wings.

Snake succumbed to another round of hearty, cleansing laughter. A pair of hands lifted him off the ground a moment later, scaly yet gentle. "Don't cry, sweetie," a devil's voice said, wiping at his set of wrinkled cheeks. "Please don't cry anymore. I know I've got a lot of problems, but we'll deal with them. Just stay with me."

"Get away from me," the laughing, crying Snake said, giving Dante a fierce shove. Dante threw back his shoulders and made an 'uh' sound. The type of sound teenage girls made whenever they were offended.

"Why? Are you ashamed of me? Are you disgusted by me? I know I'm not the prettiest apple in the bunch, but I love you!"

"All right all right all right! I get it! Just get out of that form already!"

"Not until you accept me for what I am!"

A smile spread across Snake's face, and it was a beautiful smile. It was the kind of smile that bloomed after a long winter's storm. The kind of smile that spread through rainy meadows and parched deserts.

"I get it, Dante. I'm silly. I'm sorry for being such a crybaby. Now quit being an asshole and get out of that suit!"

The devil tapped his chest with one of his huge claws. And within moments, he returned to the form of a handsome, virile, forty year old hunter. The virile hunter shrugged as the words 'what are you gonna do?' danced through his eyes, but he was warm. He was warm. Happy. Secure. Serene, and everything else in between.

He was beautiful. He was light.

Drawn to Dante's light, a smiling Snake wrapped his arms around him. The two of them said nothing for a moment, but then a blushing, beaming, tearful old soldier peered into Dante's eyes. "Where were you?" he asked, running his hands over the hunter's muscular chest.

"Hm?"

"Where were you back then? Why couldn't I have found you instead of Meryl?"

"Who knows, pretty eyes? Maybe I was too busy moping over my father's lack of love. He did, after all, favor my brother. Ah, the miserable days I had as a wee bairn."

"You really are calling me 'silly', aren't you?"

"Hey," Dante said, in an exaggerated version of his Trigger voice. "if the shoe fits, Snaaaaaake!"

Snake chuckled. He chuckled as the love of his life wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. "I love you," the old soldier said, and had no problems saying it. "I love you, Dante."

"I love you toooo, Snaaaaaake!"

"Okay, cut it out. You sound like my brother."

"Speaking of your brother," Dante began, putting his normal tone back on. "why does his face look like a baboon's backside?"

"Oh? Is that what you think of him? And I'M beautiful?"

"Damn right," the hunter said, as if the answer was perfectly obvious. "Oh well. Guess your brother ended up with the short end of the stick."

And that was that.

Shutting his eyes, feeling perfectly happy with himself, and with the world, Snake snuggled against Dante's side.

Romeo had Juliet. Sir Lancelot had Guinevere. Athena had Zeus. Rinoa had Squall, Tifa had Cloud, and-

An old, tired soldier had Dante.

And because of Dante, he felt fifty years younger.

* * *

This fluffy piece was composed to The Gapra Whitewood, one of the many beautiful, relaxing pieces to Final Fantasy XIII. The one and only Masashi Hamauzu, whom I think is far better than Nobuo Uematsu, is responsible for creating said masterpiece.

This, by far, is the fluffiest piece I've written so far. And you know what? I adore it, kyaaaaaah! And seriously, I'd DIE to be in Snake's place! Dante's the perfect boyfriend!

Thank you for your support. I had Song entirely mapped out, until the fluff of this chapter burst into song (get it?). The summary took a complete turn-around, so back to the drawing board I go! Whee! Wish me luck!

_Dedicated to my Dante, who's been with me longer than I can remember-and didn't turn away after my darkest hour. He knows who he is._


	2. Second Song

There were times when the sun dove beneath the horizon, and starlight soared through the world like a dream. There were times when the stars were brighter than diamonds, sharing hymns with the angels. There were times when pebbles skipped across starlit ponds, and hearts skipped at the mere sight of miracles. A certain miracle always caused a heart to skip, and the miracle's name was Dante.

Whenever the demon slayer was around, the world was aglow with doves. The world was aglow with music, crisp and bursting with sunshine. A certain someone thought he'd never see the sun rise above his dark horizon, but in walked Dante. The night's slayer had a head of brilliant white hair, sharp brown eyes and a wit to rival Doc Holiday's. But to top it all off, he was even more charming than a fairy tale prince. He was the sheath against the rain, sleet and snow, forever valiant against all forms of poison.

It was nighttime, and the world was silent. The moon was saying its hellos to the world below, even as the world slept in a field of dreams. Soldiers and civilians alike were sound asleep, mentally preparing themselves for the day ahead. And even though their peace was sadly ephemeral, it was just as important as the exercise of drawing breath. In their slumber, they could dream. They could smile, protected against tanks and machine guns.

It was nighttime, and an old legend was definitely smiling.

Covered in silence, he was led to his dormitory aboard the Nomad. His family slept, awaiting the unborn day with bated breath as he was drawn into the blankets of tranquility. A gentle finger poked the bridge of his nose, and star-strewn laughter graced the air. "I've got you now, my pretty," a big bad wolf snarled, and Little Red Riding Hood laughed. Before he knew it, Little Red Riding Hood was under the covers, forced into his bed by a sneering dog.

"Here you will rest, and here you will become mine! I-ooooh, what's this?"

Smiling, and feeling much lighter than a feather, Snake watched as Dante's hands studied him. The kind, loving hands studied his eyes, nose and ears. "My, what beautiful eyes you have," the devil slayer declared, his own face brighter than a diamond dipped in a moonlit lake. He gazed at Snake as if he had discovered him for the first time.

"Oh! And what a cute little nose you have! If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were the most beautiful morsel of all!"

"You don't know any better," Little Red Riding Hood said with a grunt, beaming from ear to ear. "Quit playing around and get under here!"

The wolf tossed himself under the covers in a flash. Beaming at their newly initiated contact, his ladybug snuggled against him. Off of instinct. A small, frail creature was blissful because of the wolf, happily protected from a world that had given him so much pain. The creature was old, covered in wrinkles, but happy. And his feverish happiness made him appear and feel several years younger.

Old Snake was happy. And to Dante, that fact of life meant more than every pizza parlor ever would.

Dante gazed at him, as if he had just discovered him all over again. Snake was right there, at his side, so small and delicate. Much smaller than he appeared to be. With a smile the devil slayer watched over him, thrilled at how comfortable the other was near him. There was no way he had been like that with Meryl. From everything Dante had heard, Snake's first relationship had been a confusing, cloudy disaster.

Neither of them spoke for what felt like a century, but neither of them cared. Snake was the one to break the silence, bearing the tone and eyes of a child waiting for Santa Claus. "What's it like?" he asked, his eyes tugging on Dante's heart. Beaming, Dante gazed right into his eyes.

"What are you talkin' about?"

The soldier grunted, looking as if the answer should have been obvious. "Your home. Your city. The store. What's it like?"

"I'm no tour guide, sweetheart. I couldn't paint a picture for you if my life depended on it. Why should I tell you when you're going to see it anyways, peanut?"

Peanut decided that answer was unsatisfactory. Pouting in the fashion of a disappointed child, Snake peered into the white covers for solace. But then reality caved in on him, and a frown replaced the playful round of pouting. Much to Dante's dismay, he turned away from the demon hunter and burrowed into the covers. "What if I can't see anything?" he asked, his voice muffled by white linen. "What if you can't take me anywhere?"

Just when Snake thought Dante couldn't get any softer, he did. "I'm taking you to see the world," the devil slayer said, stroking his back-even though it was covered in sheets. "We're going places, you and I. Why, right now, you and I are in our private Heaven. There isn't any Liquid, there aren't any nanomachines, and I've got Heaven's most beautiful gem. Right here. How can it possibly get any better than this?"

Just when Snake thought he couldn't fall any deeper into Dante's arms, he did. He fell in love with Dante all over again, peering straight into his honest, tender eyes. When the devil slayer had given him the world, he looked as if he had simply given Snake a grocery list. And there was something else about the inexplicably handsome devil hunter. Something beautiful. Something that sang of old-fashioned movies.

He was sharing a bed with Dante. The two of them had shared the same bed on several occassions, but as infatuated as Dante was with him, the younger male never made any advances. Ever. Snake was initially horrified by Dante's obvious refusal to ignite anything physical, but studying the other's behavior softened all fear. The sweet prince barely kissed him, but whenever he did, the world stopped. Time stopped, and everything became beautiful. The world screamed, bubbled, boiled with beauty. The stars shimmered, the sun sang, the heavens parted and angels played their trumpets.

Reflecting on all of that, Snake gazed at him. He intertwined his fingers with those of Dante's right hand, smiling. Blushing. Perfectly happy with himself, and with the sleeping world. "I love you," the master hunter said, as if Snake had liberated him from a twenty year prison sentence. Snake's cheeks darkened at the random confession, but he couldn't tell what was meant to come next.

"You mean everything to me. You're my sun, moon, stars and everything in between."

Even though the final half of Dante's statement made no sense, Snake thought the rest of it was to die for. "I love you too," the puppy said, and if he had been given a tail, it would have been wagging. Wildly. What was Dante going to say? Were his dreams going to come true? Was there a certain question Dante wanted to ask?

"Snake..."

"Yeees?" the old soldier asked, even though he already knew the answer to Dante's question. It would be 'yes' without the question mark.

"Would you..."

"Yes?"

"Pay off my debt at Antonio's?"

Snake almost fell out of the bed. If he had been in one of Hal's anime shows, he would have fallen out of the bed-with an old fashioned tear drop.

"First of all, who is Antonio?! I thought you were friends with Tony!"

"I am," Dante replied, perfectly innocent. "Antonio is his brother, and he has his own pizza parlor. See, whenever Tony decided not to feed me, I went to his brother's and-"

"I don't care if you ordered peanut butter pizza! What is all of this?! Why are you asking me to pay your damn debt?!"

"Because you love me," the devil hunter whimpered, wounded from head to toe. "If you love me, you'll save me from a life of desolation and woe."

"You're supposed to be saving ME from a life of desolation and woe, jackass!"

They couldn't share any more banter. Snake dove into a violent fit of coughing, but he was instantly comforted by his anchor. And as soon as Dante wrapped his arms around him, the outside world crept into their perfect, private Heaven. Liquid crept in, Naomi crept in, FOXDIE crept in, and the Patriots crept in. But despite all of the pain they brought, sunshine came in their wake. Snake had his anchor, his sheath, his protection from the rain.

Snake had his savior.

"I don't want you to pay anything," his savior said softly, caressing his wrinkled cheeks. Blushing, Snake batted at Dante's hands, but the master hunter kept them right where they were.

"I don't want you to pay or do anything. I just want you to be mine."

"I am yours, for as long as I can stay."

Tears struck Dante's eyes, and when rainwater struck his eyes, the world knew trouble lurked on the horizon. "You're staying," he said urgently but gently, moving his hands onto the soldier's waist. "You're staying, and I'm taking care of you."

A grunt came from underneath a pile of sheets. "What did you really want to ask me?"

"Well...I was going to ask you to marry me, but...we already are."

A wide-eyed, teary-eyed puppy popped out from underneath his covers. "We are?" he asked, clearly confused by enchanted by Dante's presented concept.

"Sure are, ladybird. Why, we're missing our rings, but look at us. Up in the sky, high amongst the stars...nestled against each other, safe from the world and all of its villains. Safe from everything but the beating of our own hearts."

Snake didn't say anything. He just stared at a beaming Dante for a minute, then closed his eyes. He snuggled against the other's side while grunting, fell silent for a moment, but then asked his husband a question.

"Have any friends?"

Dante had occupied himself with running a hand through the other's hair. "Pardon me?" he asked, inwardly amused by Snake's sleepy tone. And in response he got a little sigh.

"Have any friends? You know, someone you could set Hal up with? About time he found someone with a soul."

"Well hell hell, Mister Sassy! Too bad you can't talk like that in front of Miss Naomi Hunter!"

In response to that, Snake wrapped his arms tightly around the other's waist. He gripped Dante as though he were in danger of being torn out of Dante's arms, and couldn't stomach the thought of losing him. The gentle hunter kissed the top of his head, then lifted his face just so their eyes could meet. "I think I might have the perfect candidate for ol' Otacon," he assured the other softly, "but their blind date will have to wait. Maybe we'll go on a double date."

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night. And for the very first time, they spent the night in kisses.

* * *

This was composed to the serene, romantic music of Lifehouse. Particularly 'From Where You Are' and 'Everything'.

I love writing this. I love writing Old Snake with the characteristics of a child, and I love writing about his MGS4 dilemmas. They're beautiful, deep and wondrously poignant.

I also love old school, old-fashioned Dante. He's just too romantic. I'll take him, bwa ha ha!

Hmmm. Perhaps the aftermath of Big Mama's passing will follow this. Who knows, considering the way this year has gone so far? I do love that part of the game, though, and it's perfect foundation for more fluff. Liquid pounds the crap out of our poor Snake, Snake's mother dies right after they're barely introduced to each other...

Yum yum yum. I think I've made my decision, children.


	3. Third Song

Thank you for coming on by! Please enjoy 'Song'. Before you press on, though, here are a few things you've got to hearken to. This story contains a boy/boy couple-Old Snake/Dante of DMC, to be precise. If you can't tolerate Snake exhibiting emotion, Snake being in a boy/boy relationship, or Dante being in a boy/boy relationship, then you've made a bad turn. Steer elsewhere, dearies! The gifts of time and life are precious.

'Song' is set in the world of Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots. This particular chapter takes place after the climax of Act 3-the Big Mama and Liquid incident, we'll call it. I have yet to see a heart-wrenching depiction of that night's aftermath, yet it's one of the game's most poignant scenes. And let's go over that fun night, shall we? We've got Big Mama, half of Snake's face being burned off, Liquid beating the crap out of him....

Thank you for reading, dearies!

* * *

Love's prose was ethereal. Doves wrote ballads upon every ascent into the sky. The moon crept beneath its blankets, the sun rose with a smile, and the miracle of love was born. Baby birds sang while cloaked in the new day's light, asking mothers for the love they were all too eager to give. Dewdrops fell into the intricate yet gentle embrace of spider webs, glistening as the day drew on. Love's prose was ethereal, and it was born in several different ways.

An uplifting sonata had been born between an unlikely pair. Love's sweet song flourished during the moments they shared, glowing brighter with every passing second. The melody elevated even when situations were at their darkest, and darkness had a horrible habit of frequently popping up. They seemed fated for a never-ending whirlpool, thrust against incomprehensible forces. As of late, Liquid Ocelot was working alongside the forces of Ethalla. Ethalla, once a feared civilization of unholy beasts, had its entities awakened by a Son of Sparda. The prince of a legendary soldier would have preferred death to awakening any deadly beasts, leaving only Liquid's partner-in-crime. Vergil was responsible for rekindling Ethalla's flames, giving his superior the edge in battle. Accompanied by the wicked, small deities of Ethalla, Liquid easily attained control over the Patriots system. His newly acquired army was much greater than the one Meryl managed to gather, and Vergil's pursuit of revenge was inextricably powerful.

That was right. Both Liquid and Vergil wanted revenge on their siblings, and wanted to extract it in the worst ways possible. The Ocelot saw no need to leave his brother alone, even haunting him when they were far apart. The prince of his prey saw no need to devote any energy towards Vergil's behavior, the prey found it impossible to stop worrying. Over everything. After the discovery of a resistance group, he realized just how much of a worry wart he had become. In the past, he had scolded Otacon for worrying so much over him, but now he was no different from the anime otaku. He worried over Dante, who laughed even at the threat of death. He worried over Otacon and Sunny, who were always fretting over him. And he would never enjoy having his brother, the one and only Liquid, at his back. Liquid Ocelot refused to stand down, and as a result, Snake suffered from an incessant plague.

Snake and his prince were only fated for a handful of respites. Chaos made sure the reign of peace was ephemeral, each and every time peace tried to make itself comfortable. Several members of the resistance had turned from their original cause, steering straight onto Ethalla's path. Evidently, either Liquid or Vergil had taken the time to spread their influence. And next came Big Mama's identity-or 'role', to be precise.

Yep, Big Mama. She was not only the leader of a resistance group gone haywire, but she was also the mother of two children: Liquid and Snake. Her link to Solidus wasn't made clear, but her link to 'David' was as clear as crystal. And a family reunion never took place. Snake's mother was stolen as quickly as she appeared in his life, whisked away from him by none other than Vergil's superior.

Or so it seemed.

Without knowing the true foundation of his mother's abrupt passing, Snake allowed himself to be drawn into a black hole. The waters of fate threatened to drag him down, and he saw no reason to fight against them. His return to the Nomad was anything but joyous, even with Dante at his side. And speaking of Dante, his role as court jester had been tampered with. The henchmen of Ethalla managed to lure the master slayer away from Snake, forcing the babyish soldier into a pidgeonhole he found to be rather uncomfortable. Dante thought he'd easily be able to wipe out new friends in seconds, Snake went on ahead with Big Mama, and that was that. Dante managed to uncover the magnitude of the Ethalla forces, but that was the only silver lining. Things were insufferably awkward between the two, due to the similarities in family situations, but Liquid and Vergil's actions only served to make things worse.

Life had transformed into one intolerable, brutal snowball. A certain puppy was carrying the snowball on his shoulders, and buckled underneath the weight. Liquid, Vergil, Big Mama, Meryl...everything formed a battle he couldn't handle. His insides were caving in, and even though he was silent in the face of his family, his emotions were as clear as the sky. One, and only one anchor, could manage the burdens he carried. He couldn't possibly bury either an otaku or a maiden underneath any more strain.

But, even though he didn't admit it, he was under the greatest strain of all. He was drowning in an ocean that never offered any escape. He wasn't the invincible legend Meryl made him out to be, and certainly wasn't a world renowned icon. He wasn't Snake but David, desperately hungry for something all cold, abandoned puppies needed.

And in addition to everything else, Liquid's flames scorched a side of his face. His brother figured out the perfect way to amp up his self esteem!

The night seemed to last forever. The Nomad was truly a nomad, wandering through a sky without end. An otaku had left a silent lamb alone, keeping all thoughts on the night to himself. An ever-watchful maiden had thrust herself into slumber, but was ready to assist with fortune telling at a moment's notice. Snake was at the usual place, clutching paltry bed linen to his chest. Only the soft humming of computers and the Nomad's engine fell into the lamb's ears. Ages passed before the silence was broken.

"Hey."

The Nomad's puppy turned around, eyes begging for the warmth his heart so desperately deserved. And much to his horror, his prince looked absolutely horrified. Of course Dante had his usual air about him, but he was gravely upset. He wasn't too proud of leaving his angel alone, for any reason. Especially since his brother had mapped out their separation right from the beginning. Never before had he fallen for Vergil's tricks-at least not according to his memory. Falling into a carefully laid pit came in last on Dante's list of favorite accomplishments.

But did it matter? Did Dante's failure to sense a trap really matter?

Snake only had one word to answer that question, and it was a big, fat 'NO'. Sadly, the master slayer didn't have the same answer. "Found out a few things tonight," the prince said, his voice laden with guilt. Just looking at his lover's face caused his heart to sink. He attempted to smile, but his smile was just that: an attempt.

"Vergil's planning to resurrect The Five Orders of Ethalla. Managed to throttle that bit of information out of a new friend of mine. Oh, and here's something else. As it turns out, I'm an asshole."

"No you're not," a puppy said, instantly wounded by Dante's words. The hunter attacked himself with such conviction, Snake experienced pain far worse than anything Liquid could ever dish out. He wanted to reach out to his stronger half, but pain crept up on him. His face became distorted by inner distress.

Only two coughs escaped before Dante made it to him. The hunter noticed his condition in a flash, and wasted no time in comforting him. The younger male buried Snake's head into his chest, rocking him back and forth. The coughing spree went on for several minutes, and then two pairs of eyes met. Dante winced as fingers dug into his skin, clinging to him for dear life. He then kissed the top of his lover's head, uncomfortable with the pain he was obviously in. "I'm sorry," he said, and for what seemed like the very first time, his voice was devoid of humor.

"I'm so sorry. I should've been there."

Sniffing, a lamb shook his head. As a result of Dante's overwhelming warmth and fragrance, shudders shook his weary frame. "Don't be," he whispered, referring to the hunter's apology. His hands underneath Dante's red coat and onto his back.

"Don't apologize. You've got nothing to apologize for."

"Like Hell I don't."

Looking straight into the other's eyes, Snake gripped the edges of Dante's collar. "You couldn't help it," he whimpered, tears glistening. "You had to do something. Otherwise, we both could have been killed."

His anchor wasn't buying any of it. "I swore I'd never let anything happen to you," he snarled, tears edging into his eyes. A lamb began to cry, and Dante misinterpreted his tears as submission to general sadness. Anger flooded the hunter's normally warm voice, accompanied by the weight of tears.

"There I was, playing the part of cavalier, but all of this shit happened! I should have been there to stop it!"

It was too much. It was just too much.

A feather plunged into an abyss of sobs, unable to bear the sound of Dante tormenting himself. The night's events weren't the least bit pleasant, but witnessing his prince's self-destruction was the nail in the coffin. 'You weren't responsible for any of this', the feather wanted to say over and over again, but could only sob. Arms held him close, forever warm and gentle.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, love. I'm so sorry. I wasn't there to protect you. I'm so sorry."

Neither of them gathered enough strength to speak another word. Tears replaced all vocabulary for what seemed like an age, streaming from both pairs of eyes. Those pairs of eyes met, though, coming together at a much needed interval of peace. One pair gazed into the eyes of a savior, hoping for the chance to leave reality. The other pair gazed into the eyes of a bride, hoping for the chance to redeem himself in the eyes of eternity.

Eyes met, tears met, and foreheads nuzzled one another. "I'm sorry," Sparda's son whispered, cradling the other's face in his hands. And his apology was no longer exclusive to the Ethalla problem.

Two hearts touched, their rhythms perfectly in synch. Snake trembled as warmth broke through his body, and overwhelmed every last inch of his insides. Sobs turned to whimpers as a puppy snuggled against a demon slayer. His trembling body was graced by kisses, all of them much softer than a chocolate moon's elegance.

Kisses soon fell onto his neck. The fragile proof of contentment rose from his throat, pleading with the other for more. A gentle set of hands laid him down, and gentle rain continued to comfort his tired body. The same set of hands cupped his face, and kisses were exchanged, but then the master slayer broke away. A lamb peered up at him in confusion, wondering just what had happened, but the hunter wasted no time in providing an explanation.

"I hate tonight."

"Don't think about it anymore," an old soldier whimpered, tugging on the ends of Dante's collar. Unfortunately, the first and last love of his life sneered.

"How can I, when tonight's staring at me right in the face? Like a dying cat waiting for its last supper?"

Old Snake's eyes were pale and weary, but at that very moment, they adopted beauty that could only be described as 'ethereal'. Filled with emotion, and burdened with a thousand tears, he begged all of reality to fall silent. "Concentrate on what you have here," he said, hands sliding onto the younger male's chest.

"Please. Look at me, and only me. Don't pay attention to anything else. Just me. Me, Dante. You've done it before, and you can do it now. I need you to."

There weren't any complaints. There wasn't any hesitation. And in mere moments, two souls were naked, and wrapped up in the night's only treasure: love.

Little did they know that their love, their fairy tale, had yet to meet the ultimate test.


End file.
